


Hung Up on You

by Car



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Peer Pressure, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, the adult losers club acting like middle schoolers once again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Car/pseuds/Car
Summary: A few of the Losers make delighted and wistful noises at the idea, to Eddie's continued mortification, and before he knows it, his phone is being thrust into his hands, and six pairs of eyes are staring him down.He blinks up at them stupidly. "He's—He's at a party!" he cries. "He's not even gonna answer!""He will if it's you." Mike grins. Eddie hates that he knows he's right.The Losers use the power of peer pressure to get Eddie to finally make a move.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 20
Kudos: 381





	Hung Up on You

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be just a short little drabble for tumblr, but of course these idiots can't shut up, so it grew to almost 3,000 words instead. Haha! Whooops!
> 
> This was written whenever I needed a break from life this week. First week of school while everything around me is literally on fire is never a good time, but writing this definitely helped.
> 
> I hope you enjoy some good old fashioned Loser Club shenanigans!

**Hung Up on You  
  
**

Eddie wasn't sure what he was expecting, blurting out his freshly realized desires at the Losers Club watch party for Richie's new special, but he was pretty sure wide-eyed and confused stares was definitely not it.   
  
"Wait," Bev mumbles, finally breaking the awkward silence he had somehow created. "What do you mean ' _if he feels the same way_ '?"  
  


And that... That _definitely_ wasn't what he had been expecting. "Exactly what it sounds like," he clarifies, raising an eyebrow. "I think I've developed feelings for Richie, and _if he feels the same way_ , I think I'd like to ask him to go...on a...date?" He trails off, losing his focus as his friend's eyes widen even more in surprise. "Okay, what the fuck? Stop fucking looking at me like that."  
  


"You mean," Ben adds in now, looking around the room, a little lost. "You...? Eddie, do you not know?"  
  


"Apparently _fucking_ not," he grumbles, only to immediately regret it. He and his therapist had been working on his impulsive need to get defensive when he feels embarrassed, so he shoots Ben a quick apologetic gesture, which he other man, sweetheart that he is, accepts easily. "Could someone clue me into what we're talking about, please?" he tries instead; still not exactly _kind_ , but at least he says please.

"Sweetie," Bev begins again, apparently the spokesperson to Eddie's confusion tonight. "Richie is like, _ridiculously_ in love with you."  
  


And Eddie knows he must look absurd, gaping the way he feels himself gaping, but gravity is working stubbornly against his jaw at the moment, and he is not exactly firing on all cylinders right now, so who is he to fight a force of nature? "He—He's _what?_ "   
  


"Holy sh-shit, we thought you knew," Bill says, the rest of the Losers nodding guiltily around him.   
  


"How _the fuck_ would I know that?!" he demands, starting to feel just a hair shy of hysterical at this point.   
  


"Oh Eddie," Patty murmurs, "how could you _not?_ "   
  


Mike smiles a little in clear amusement. "Yeah man, he's pretty obvious," he agrees. "We thought you were just, like, real chill and casual about it."  
  


" _Chill and casual?_ " Eddie cries, and yep, there's the hysteria. "When have I _ever_ been chill or casual about anything in my life?!"  
  


That gets a nice little snort from Stan, and Eddie doesn't feel any sort of guilt flipping him off for it.   
  


"How long?" he demands. "How long has he had—" he gulps, feeling his cheeks flush embarrassingly, "— _feelings_ for me?"  
  


"Oh god," Stan sighs, crossing his arms and looking up toward the ceiling, like he's trying to remember something just out of the confines of his memory. "About...Forever? Yeah, I'd say forever is a pretty good estimate."   
  


Eddie spins to gawk at him in absolute horror so fast, he makes himself dizzy. " _Excuse_ me?"  
  


Bill nods. "S-since middle school, at least."  
  


"Middle school?!"  
  


"High school, for _sure_ ," Ben agrees, smiling softly. "It was actually pretty sweet. He always gave you his dessert, and he'd walk you to class, and hang around you at dances, and—oh! Do you guys remember all the hoops he would jump through to get the locker next to his?"  
  


Bill and Stan nod, Bill looking far more endeared than Stan, who practically groans at the memory.   
  


"He was so embarrassing," Stan says, shaking his head, but Mike awws as Bill chuckles.  
  


"He t-told me he had to write Frank Frick's English essays for a whole semester to get th-that locker sophomore year," Bill explains, and Mike, Bev, and Patty all coo and pout about missing out on getting to see teenage Richie being such a lovesick sap at school, which just makes Eddie feel even more unhinged.   
  


"Nope, no way, nuh-uh," he argues, slicing his hand through the air to emphasize his point. "That does _not_ mean he was in love with me! That's—That's just how Richie fucking is!"  
  


Bev snorts a laugh into her drink at that, grinning. "How Richie is _when it comes to you_ ," she sings. " _Is_ , by the way. Present tense. He's still like that." And as Eddie opens his mouth to argue, adds, "What did he send you for your birthday this year?"  
  


He blushes despite himself. "A bouquet of flowers and tickets to a Red Sox game...?"  
  


"What?!" everyone whines immediately, and Bev motions to them in explanation.   
  


"He sent me a P-Paw P-Patrol birthday card for five-year-olds," Bill says with a pout.   
  


Bev laughs. "I got a sympathy card telling me ' _Sorry for your loss_ ', and then in his own handwriting, '— _of youth and, consequently, value to the world as a woman_ '." She beams at Eddie. "He is _stupid_ for you, honey."  
  


“Richie is literally always stupid,” he mumbles uselessly to himself.   
  


And as if the entire world tilting off its axis isn't enough to make Eddie reevaluate his entire life up until this point, Patty sits up in her seat excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Oh! You should call him and ask him out right now!"  
  


" _What_?!" he shrieks, but the rest of the Losers look just as, if not more, excited than Patty at the idea. "Woah, woah, wait a second—"  
  


Ben, ever the romantic, is practically vibrating. "He's gonna absolutely flip, you guys," he gushes. "He's just debuted an awesome special of all his own work, it's getting great reviews, he's at a big, fancy Netflix party where they are probably offering him another deal, and then, just to top off the whole night, the love of his life calls and asks him out."  
  


A few of the Losers make delighted and wistful noises at the idea, to Eddie's continued mortification, and before he knows it, his phone is being thrust into his hands, and six pairs of eyes are staring him down.   
  


He blinks up at them stupidly. "He's—He's at a party!" he cries. "He's not even gonna answer!"  
  


"He will if it's you." Mike grins.   
  


Eddie scoffs, then, realizing he's probably right, the bastard, rolls his eyes. "Shut up." He eyes his phone warily, just long enough for the others to realize he's stalling and start nudging him to get a move on already, and breathes out once heavily. "He'll be here tomorrow, I don't see why I can't just do this then," he grumbles, annoyed, not for the first time, at Richie's refusal to watch himself on film around any of them. Had he just sucked it up and come to Georgia, he'd have gotten out of the release party and he'd be here right now, meaning this whole stupid conversation wouldn't even be happening.  
  


Alas, here he is.  
  


" _Some of us_ have been waiting three goddamn decades for this, Eddie," Stan grumbles. "Just do it now and put us out of our misery."  
  


Patty smiles next to him. "No time like the present."  
  


He sighs, acting far more put out by the idea than he actually is (as is Eddie Kaspbrak tradition. Despite the show he always insists on putting on, it’s never very hard to convince him to get into mischief at the end of the day) and unlocks his phone.  
  


"Put it on speaker," Bill tells him. Eddie scrunches up his nose at the suggestion, but does it anyway, because why the fuck not at this point? Someone in their little peer-pressuring huddle giggles excitedly.  
  


Richie's phone rings four and a half times before clicking over, his tinny voice chirping out an excited, "SpaghEds!" as he answers, loud music and happy voices floating around distractingly in the background. The Losers smirk at Eddie knowingly at Richie picking up, just like they knew he would. He pointedly ignores them. "Hey man! You guys finish watching the special? What's the verdict? Should I keep my day job?"   
  


Eddie's witty retort catches in his throat, stuck in place either by the hint of self-consciousness just barely detectable in Richie's voice, or, you know, the knowledge that Richie’s apparently _fucking in love with him_ , and instead laughs a little hollowly. "Stand-up _is_ your day job, dipshit," he says, probably far too fondly, if the kissy faces Bev is making are any indication. He shoves her face away from him as she spills into a fit of silent giggles. "But yeah dude, it was pretty tolerable. I actually chuckled once or twice. I think Stan may have even chortled."  
  


Richie laughs loudly at that, making Eddie blush for some stupid reason. "I'll take it! That's better than I was— _Oh, yeah, yeah man, thanks! And thanks for coming!_ " Richie's voice tapers out a little as he addresses someone at the party with him. He snorts at something Eddie can't hear, but is quick to come back to the conversation with a "Hey, sorry about that, Eds."  
  


"It's all good, man of the hour and shit, right?" It feels like a stupid thing to say almost as soon as he says it, and he cringes, biting down on his lip. "Listen, you sound busy, so I'll let you go. You're probably—"  
  


The Losers all start silently arguing with him about that decision almost immediately, and Eddie almost throws his hands up in the air and says to hell with this whole plan he never wanted to be a part of anyway, when Richie's voice breaks through the chaos, "Nah, dude. I've been talking to these assholes all night, what's up with you guys over there?"  
  


“Oh,” Eddie begins, then pauses as the Losers all start mouthing and gesturing for him to get a move on already. He flips them all off and turns his head away from them stubbornly, not that it makes a difference. “We’re—Uh, nothing much. Hangin'." He cringes at himself again. "Hey, uh, Rich...?”   
  


The Losers silently cheer him on, clapping and giving him thumbs up out of the corner of his eye like idiots.   
  


“Hm?” Richie asks.   
  


Eddie runs a hand through his hair, nervous, despite everyone’s insistence that his feelings are guaranteed to be returned. He’s still just about positive he won’t actually believe anything until he hears it for himself. “So, uh,” he starts lamely. “You know, seeing you get up there, and, uh, be your true, authentic self, or whatever, made me want to—“  
  


"Ugh, hold that thought, Eds," Richie grumbles, cutting him off. "I can't hear a fucking—I'm gonna find somewhere more quiet dude, hold tight."  
  


Eddie mimes strangling Richie to the amused Losers as they are all treated to the sounds of Richie making his way through the crowd, complete with faint _Hey man, thanks_ 's and _Appreciate it, dude. Couldn't have done it without_ _you_ 's as he goes. Finally, they hear the sound of a door clicking shut, and Richie's voice is back, albeit far more echoey. "Okay, that's better. Continue!"  
  


Eddie's brow furrows. "Are you in a fucking bathroom?"  
  


"Yes?"  
  


"Ugh."  
  


Eddie can practically hear Richie grinning through the phone. "I didn't plan on, like, _using it_ while we were talking, dude. Unless you'd get off on something like that. In which case—"  
  


"Don't you fucking dare, asshole. That's so fucking gross. No one wants to hear that shit."  
  


"Is this, like, their f-foreplay?" Bill whispers somewhere behind Eddie, making Mike choke back a snort. "I feel like we're wuh-witnessing their foreplay." Eddie decides not to even dignify that with a response beyond a sloppy elbow to the ribs that Bill probably doesn't even feel but at least makes him feel better.  
  


Richie, thankfully, doesn't hear Bill's little comment, and instead just laughs at Eddie's predictable germophobia as he asks again what Eddie had been trying to say before.   
  


Eddie gulps, but squares up his shoulders and clears his throat. He still thinks this is stupid, but, well, if Richie _does_ actually like him (still questionable), and Eddie asking him out _would_ be the cherry on an already fantastic sundae of a night for him, well, Eddie's kind of into that. He thinks he'd like to be the one to do something nice for Richie for a change.   
  


Ultimately, the idea of Richie smiling and Eddie being the one to put that smile in place is enough to give him all the courage he needs, and secretly, Eddie thinks that's pretty romantic of him.   
  


"Oh, right. So," he says, trying to sound as _chill_ and _casual_ as his friends all apparently think he is, "I was just saying how impressed I was by you getting up there and, you know, putting yourself out there and being true to yourself and shit, and, I... Kinda wanted to do the same?"  
  


Richie pauses for a beat too long before mumbling out a confused, "Uh-huh...?"  
  


And _of course_ Richie would be literally completely unhelpful, why wouldn't he be? But Eddie powers on anyway, because he kinda-sorta likes this dumbass a whole lot for some stupid reason, and according to the six idiots hovering anxiously in his personal space currently, he kinda likes him too, so it's gotta be worth it, right?   
  


The picture of Richie on Netflix grins at him goofily from where it's idling on the TV, post-special. Eddie smiles at it softly.  
  


_Right_.  
  


"So, here goes nothing. Rich, would you like to go out to dinner?"  
  


Richie doesn't say anything for a long time, and when he does, Eddie almost misses it. "...What?" he asks, way quieter and softer than Richie Tozier should ever sound.  
  


"You know," he drawls, "dinner? With... With me?" And then, _just because_ Ben and Patty keep mouthing it at him and looking so goddamn starry-eyed and adorable, and _only_ because Ben and Patty keep mouthing it at him and looking so goddamn starry-eyed and adorable, he adds, "...Like, on a date?"  
  


"A _date?_ " Richie squeaks, his voice breaking over the word. Eddie flushes and bites his lip at the sound. "You're—Eddie Kaspbrak is asking me on a date."  
  


It's not a question, and he doesn't say it teasingly or mockingly, like Eddie had kind of expected. He sounds almost... Introspective? Disbelieving? _In awe_? His stomach swoops at the thought.   
  


"Like, maybe when you get here tomorrow?" He asks, growing gutsy at the idea that he, _Eddie Kaspbrak_ , could make _Richie Tozier_ speak in a tone of such wonderment. "Stan and Patty can probably recommend us a nice place."  
  


Richie laughs wetly on the other end of the phone, and Eddie suddenly wishes more than anything that he had waited to do this _in fucking person_ , but Richie continues, giggling out an amused, "Holy shit, I wish I wasn't in a fucking bathroom for this."  
  


"I tried to stop you," Eddie says with a grin even he can tell is pathetically fond. "So... Is that a yes?"  
  


"Fuck you," Richie laughs again, far dryer now, but no less awestruck. "Yeah it's a fucking yes, you little gremlin."  
  


Eddie beams. "If you own anything that's actually nice to wear, be sure to pack it."   
  


Richie hisses in apology. "Ehh, tough cookies, Eduardo, I wore my suit to this Netflix shindig, so it'll be dirty."  
  


Eddie rolls his eyes with a snort, falling back into their usual banter with practiced ease. "So pack a _different_ suit."  
  


"Aw, it's cute you think I have more than one."  
  


Eddie hears Bev make a noise of disgust somewhere to his left and—Oh right, the Losers are all here too, aren't they? He'd kind of forgotten. Whoops. "Well, I better let you get back to the party," he says softly, not really ready to say goodbye.  
  


"Yeah," Richie agrees, and Eddie preens a little at the fact that he doesn't sound like he wants to get off the phone either. "Better get back to making the rounds. Rub some elbows. Get me some more of that Fuck-You Netflix-Money."  
  


"You'll need it, if _you're_ gonna take _me_ out next time," he says, teasing. But Richie barks out another surprised laugh, which quickly morphs into a few startled coughs.   
  


" _Jesus_ , Eds, you can't just—Let's get through date one first, alright? Fuck. _Gonna kill me with this shit..._ "  
  


Eddie closes his eyes and leans back into the couch, smiling softly. "Alright Rich, get back out there. We'll see you tomorrow."  
  


"Yeah, yeah," Richie quips, adding playfully, "Night, Losers—Yeah, that's right, I can hear you all, you assholes! What are we, thirteen? Get a fuckin' hobby!"  
  


The Losers burst into laughter, wishing Richie a safe flight in the morning and congratulating him once again on his special as Eddie ends the call with a flourish, the whole lot of them immediately wrapping him up in a hug and cheering as they ruffle his hair and pinch at his cheeks, cooing that _their little Eddie and Richie are finally having their first date!  
  
_

"You all suck," he tells them around a begrudging smile, but doesn't put up a fight as they herd him into the guest room to pick through his clothes to find an appropriate outfit for tomorrow night.   
  


Thankfully, he'd thought ahead and packed a nice suit, just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write a fic where all the losers are hanging out in person together? The world may never know. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! :)


End file.
